


2. One for the Road - The Romanian Series

by Denise_Felt



Series: The Romanian Series [2]
Category: Gerry Anderson's UFO
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-05
Updated: 2010-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:03:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise_Felt/pseuds/Denise_Felt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Straker looks for his actress friend in Romania -- and finds more trouble than he could imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2. One for the Road - The Romanian Series

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains adult content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

## 2\. One for the Road

 **(A UFO Story)  
** by Denise Felt 2010

Author’s note: This story contains adult content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

 **Chapter 1**

 ****There were times, Straker thought, when he cursed the morons who’d decided to hide a multi-billion dollar covert military operation beneath a film studio. Times such as when he was forced to double his security because of some rabid fan or an actress who took their roles in a movie together a little too seriously. Just to mention a few of the more annoying instances.

But this was not one of those times.

He was greeted effusively at the Bucharest Otopeni International Airport by Stefan Petrescu, a small man with merry dark eyes who was the current Minister of Foreign Relations, and escorted personally by limousine to his hotel in Bucharest. The Minister livened the trip with an enthusiastic travelogue of his country, interspersing his descriptions of Romanian hotspots with questions on whether Mr. Straker would be making a film in Romania soon? He promised all sorts of assistance in acquiring the proper paperwork if this were so and pledged himself ready to stand-in as an extra if needed on any scene in the movie, since he’d had some training in the dramatic arts as a boy.

Straker thanked him for his willingness to help out, graciously taking the Minister’s card and placing it in his jacket’s inner pocket under Petrescu’s watchful eye, and saying, "We will certainly contact you when we’re ready to start production. How kind of you to offer your help in the matter! But then, I was told beforehand than the Romanian people were friendly."

He was assured that this was so, and Petrescu smiled winningly at him, inviting him to his home for dinner that evening and assuring him that his good wife was an entertaining hostess. Straker agreed that he certainly could not pass up such hospitality, inwardly sighing at the delay, but nonetheless grateful that he had been so pleasantly received. He highly doubted if he would have been treated so kindly had they known of his true occupation as a military official.

Before he left him at the hotel, the Minister promised to see to all arrangements for travel that might help Straker find the perfect location for his movie, even going so far as to offer him the services of his own driver if he intended to stay in the area. He was told quietly that a more mountainous region was necessary, and after expressing heartfelt disappointment that his own car would not be needed, the Minister promised to send round a car and driver for him first thing in the morning. Straker thanked him, then left him in the grand lobby of the hotel with a handshake and a smile, and followed the bellboy up to his room.

Later, after returning from a pleasant dinner with the Petrescus, Straker took his coffee out onto the small balcony off his room and looked out over the lights of the city. Some distance north of those lights lay the city of Brasov, where the Dalco family lived. He had found upon study that Brasov was considered one of the most beautiful spots in Romania, and he hoped to coax Rayna into showing him around while he was there. His heart raced at the thought of seeing her soon, his mind showing him image after image of her warm smile and dark, beautiful eyes. He still didn’t know how to ask her about continuing their affair. But perhaps it might not even be necessary for him to do so. She was a highly intelligent woman. No doubt she could read between the lines of his movie proposal for herself. His one hope was that she would want it as much as he did. He didn’t know what he’d do if the idea offended her.

***  
The driver of the car gave his name as Leonid and left it at that. Straker couldn’t decide whether to be offended at his brusqueness or amused. He eventually chose to be amused. He knew the good Petrescu was keeping tabs on him; it would be standard procedure for a foreigner here in this Socialist Republic, whether he was a famous film producer or not. He wondered what the driver’s report would be of him at the end of the day? A long-winded account or a curt summary?

The ride to Brasov took the entire morning, and Straker whiled away the hours on the road by alternately reading scripts for possible filming and looking out the car windows at the passing countryside. It was quite picturesque and, especially when the early morning mists covered the fields, almost otherworldly. Quaint villages and verdant forests passed by in a kaleidoscope of blurs, interspersed with quiet meadows and working fields. He could easily have chosen a dozen or more filming locations just from what he saw as he passed, but then he wasn’t really here for that, was he? But he thought perhaps he would speak to his production people upon his return and see if they could put Romania on their list of beautiful location possibilities. He wouldn’t mind at all returning at another time so that he could enjoy more of what the country had to offer.

The Dalco family owned a large residence on the edge of the city with some acreage attached, which told its own tale. Either they were paying the government enormous bribes for the luxury of maintaining such a grand home – or Alec was right, and they were part of the Russian mob.

As Straker emerged from the vehicle, he could see through the wrought iron fence a gardener working on the rosebushes near the front entrance to the house. But after coming through the gate and approaching, he saw that it was actually an elderly woman wearing a scarf, muttering to herself as she deadheaded the roses in each bush. When she heard his shoes on the walkway, she turned, and he was stunned to see Rayna’s eyes staring out at him from her wrinkled face. He stopped and extended his hand to her, saying, "You must be Buna, Rayna’s grandmother. She spoke about you several times while we were filming."

The elderly woman’s face broke into a wide smile. "Are you a friend of Rayna’s then?"

"Yes. Is she in?"

Buna patted his hand. "I have no idea. She was earlier, but they tend to bounce around a lot at that age. We’ll have a look, shall we?" She led him up the front steps and through the door into a spacious foyer, continuing until she reached a doorway on the left. There she turned and gestured for him to enter, saying, "Won’t you wait in the parlor while I see if she’s here?"

"Thank you." Straker entered an ornately decorated room that somehow managed to be bright and cheerful in spite of the heavily-paneled walls. It took him a moment or two, but he finally decided that it was the furnishings that saved it from being dark, since they were done in an elegant butterscotch suede. It also helped that the heavy drapes were tied back, allowing the early afternoon sun to shine through the lace at the windows. He could glimpse a pleasant view of the grounds from the window, but turned back toward the door when he heard Rayna’s voice in the foyer.

"Who is it, Buna? Is it news about Alexi?"

"No, _nepoata_. It is a young man. He says he is a friend of yours."

Straker smiled slightly at being referred to as a young man, then Rayna came into the parlor. She looked so impossibly lovely that his breath caught.

"Ed!" She stopped in the doorway, clearly dismayed to see him. "What are you doing here?"

It wasn’t exactly the welcome he’d hoped for, but he came forward with a small smile, saying, "I came to see you."

She didn’t return his smile. "Why?"

He was thrown for a moment, wondering if perhaps he had merely dreamed their night together. But of course he hadn’t. Perhaps she was merely quicker than he expected and had already figured out why he was here . . . and wasn’t excited about the prospect of continuing their relationship. He swallowed and said, "I have a movie proposal for you."

Her expression didn’t lighten. "Why didn’t you contact my agent?"

"We did. She told us you were here. And since the matter is of some urgency, I came to see what you think of it."

She waved that away. "I don’t have time right now to look at a script. I’ll be back in New York in a few weeks. Contact me then, and we’ll see. You shouldn’t have come here, you know."

"I understand that you’re here about a family matter," he said quietly. "I have no desire to intrude, but if there’s anything I might be able to do to help you . . . ?"

"No. We’re fine." Her chin tilted slightly. Defiantly.

"I see."

The silence in the room stretched into several minutes while he met those dark eyes, trying to understand why she was so cool to him. But her eyes were shuttered, telling him nothing. Then she spoke.

"Listen, Ed. A one night stand – by its definition – is just that. One night. You need to go home. You need to move on."

He searched her face for some hint of the woman he’d spent such an intimate night with, but could find no trace of her. It was as though someone else stood in the parlor doorway, wearing a mask of Rayna’s face. She looked the same as she had that night, but she clearly didn’t feel the same.

"Very well," he said. He walked past her into the foyer and headed for the front door, but turned before he opened the door and asked softly, "Was any of it real then? Or was it all an act?"

Her eyelids barely flickered. Although he supposed it was some consolation that she reacted to his question at all. "Go home, Ed," she said again, then went into the parlor and closed the door.

He let himself out of the house, passing her grandmother on the way to the car without even seeing her as she continued to work on the rosebushes.

***

He didn’t remember the ride to his hotel in downtown Brasov nor the ride in the lift to his suite on the tenth floor. He stood in the middle of his room staring at nothing in particular for quite some time – numb and blank. But that didn’t last nearly long enough, and eventually he wandered over to the bottle of Kauffman Luxury Vintage Vodka he had picked up for Alec yesterday. He ran a hand down its opulent surface, finding a pathetic sort of solace in the clean lines of the elegant bottle.

There was a hole inside him that he’d lived with for so many years that he’d been surprised when it had suddenly been filled. By Rayna – by her smile and her dark, mysterious eyes. He’d fully expected the pain he’d felt after their night together; the strain of knowing that she was right there at the studio – and he was better off not seeing her again. But days after she left the studio, when his fevered brain had concocted the plan to be with her again, that pain had left, replaced by an anticipation that had almost made him lightheaded. But now the hole was back – and burning with an ache that threatened to consume him.

He suddenly remembered Alec’s concern for him if she didn’t go along with his plan. His worry that his friend might not handle her rejection well. But it wasn’t her rejection that stung so much, Straker found. It was that – in a few short words – she had turned the memory of their intimate encounter into a lie, a cheat, a sordid game. And that was beyond any bearing. He’d given her everything he was, holding nothing back – and it had meant nothing to her. How did a man recover from that?

He took a glass from the bar and set it on the table next to the vodka. He opened the bottle and poured himself some of it, downing it quickly like medicine. It surprised him by having a soft, subtle flavor with just a hint of mint. He drank the second glass slower, and the third slower still – savoring the flavor as it hit his tongue. Eventually he took the bottle and his glass out onto the minuscule balcony and watched the sun set over the nearby mountains.

He did not return inside for a very long time.

 **Chapter 2**

The Prince descended the spiraling stone stairs until at last he came to an ancient wooden door set with an iron latch. Taking a key out of his vest pocket, he opened the lock and entered a musty and damp corridor. All along it on both sides ranged thick wooden doors, each fitted with a lock similar to the one on the entrance. He smiled on hearing the moans and weeping that carried thinly through the heavy doors. It was always good to know that his enemies thought of him.

Upon reaching the end of the corridor, he took out the key once more and turned it in the lock of the final door on the right. He entered a silent cell filled with darkness and closed the door behind him. He did not light a candle, and in fact, had not brought one with him. His night vision was excellent.

The occupant of the cell was not so fortunate and struggled to see who had entered the tiny room. "Who’s there?" he whispered, not out of a desire to be quiet, but because his voice had given out days ago from screaming.

"Ah, my young friend!" the Prince said, coming closer to the corner where the prisoner curled into a shivering ball. "I have another question for you."

The young man cringed instinctively, expecting to feel the slash of a whip or the cut of a dagger slice at him through the dark. "What?" he cried. "What more can I tell you than I already have?"

The Prince chuckled softly. "Why, my dear young Dalco, you have been most helpful to me! I freely admit it. Knowing your father’s plans will make my own that much easier to adjust. You have been invaluable indeed, and I have a reward for you." He reached out and stroked the matted and bloody head as the young man sobbed. "But first, you must tell me one more thing."

Alexi Dalco shivered in fear. The devil’s petting terrified him even more than his torture. He tried to swallow, but he was too dehydrated for it to have any effect. "Wha-at?"

"Why has your father sent for Straker? How did he know of him to ask him to come here? Tell me, and you shall have your reward. Lie – and you shall regret it."

Alexi squinted through the absolute darkness of the cell, trying to read the devil’s expression. "Who? What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re talking about!"

A hiss from above him was all the warning he got before the thin heel of the Prince’s boot pierced his foot, crushing the bones while tearing the tender flesh of his instep. At nearly the same moment, his hair was grabbed and fiercely tugged, and the devil’s implacable voice whispered into his ear. "Do not toy with me, Dalco! Did you think I would not notice his arrival in Romania? Or that he went directly to your family home upon entering the city today? Did you think to enlist his assistance without my knowledge? How foolish of your father to underestimate me so!"

But the boy only sobbed hoarsely, in too much pain to even make sense of his words.

The Prince threw him aside in disgust and headed for the door of the cell. He turned back when he reached it and said silkily, "No matter, my friend. I shall soon set the cat among the pigeons and see how well he fares then." He chuckled again, pleased with the image he was contemplating. "And you, my dear young friend, shall have your reward for services rendered."

He left the cell on these words, locking the door behind him, and Alexi wept for his injuries, wept for the family he had betrayed through torture, and wept for the lover whose brutal murder he would never be able to avenge now. He understood quite well how the devil planned to ‘reward’ him. After all, what more would a tortured soul and body desire as a reward than a release from that pain? He would die here in this hellhole. And everyone he loved would suffer because of his impetuosity, his arrogrant assurance that he could defeat one who had never been beaten.

***

"Where’s Rayna?" asked Elena Dalco at dinner.

Her husband frowned. "I haven’t seen her since I got home from the office. Is she at home this evening?"

"She’s upstairs," said their granddaughter Ana from further down the table.

Ana’s mother frowned at her across the table. "I told you to tell her we were eating. Why didn’t you?"

"I did, Mama!" insisted the ten-year-old. "But she wouldn’t stop crying long enough to talk to me."

Elena exchanged glances with her eldest daughter, then got up from the table and left the room. Her younger daughter had indeed spent much of her time since arriving in Brasov in tears. Rayna had always been close to her brother Alexi, and with him missing, Rayna was taking it very hard. In actual fact, the strain was getting to all of them, and Elena wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not that she knew he was still alive.

But she had no intention of telling her husband.

She could hear her daughter’s sobs through the door and so did not bother to knock, but opened it and went in. The room was nearly dark with the fall of night, so Elena turned on the bedside lamp before sitting on the side of the bed. "Rayna, this is not good for you. Alexi would not wish you to cry so over him. You’ll make yourself ill, and how will that help us find him?"

Rayna didn’t react to her words, but she did react to the hand that brushed her hair away from her tear-stained face. "Mama!" she sobbed, her dark eyes devastated in her white face. "I am evil! Oh, how I wish I’d never been born!"

These words brought a chill of fear to her mother’s heart, more perhaps than what ordinary mothers experienced, but Elena took a breath and said, "What do you mean, dearest? What has happened?"

Rayna covered her face and sobbed afresh. "The things I said to him! Oh, Mama! And I did it on _purpose!_ How could I ever be forgiven? I am altogether wicked!"

Elena gently took her hands from her face and held them. "Now, that’s enough!" she said firmly. "Tell me what has occurred. Who did you say horrid things to?"

Her daughter gulped back her tears and tried to explain. "Ed. He . . . he came here. Followed me here. I was so horrified! Oh, Mama! How could he do such a foolish thing? I couldn’t believe it!"

Elena frowned at her. "Ed who?"

"Straker. You know. I was just in that movie with him in England, remember?"

"Yes." Her mother’s eyes saw a great deal more in her daughter’s face than what she was saying, and she sighed. "Why did you say mean things to him, Rayna? You could use a friend during this difficult time. Why would you push him away?"

Her daughter looked at her in horror. " _Mama!_ Alexi’s missing! No one’s been able to find him, and any one of us could be next! How could I not send him away? I couldn’t bear it if – if anything happened to him!"

"Dearest, he would be safe enough here. It is highly doubtful that he would come under the notice of our enemies. He is a film producer, after all. A mere visitor to our country. You should not have panicked."

"Mama." Rayna reached out a shaking hand and took her mother’s, her dark eyes full of fear. "He’s not just a film producer! He wants to research Dracula! He finds him _interesting!_ "

"Oh, dear."

Rayna nodded, sure now that her mother understood the danger. "I had to get rid of him as quickly as I could. I knew he’d never listen to me if I tried to explain. He said as much to me already. So, I . . . said terrible things to him. So he’d go home and be safe."

Elena stroked her daughter’s dark hair soothingly. "Perhaps you’ll be able to make it up to him someday. Surely he would listen to you once he calmed down about it? Eventually?"

But Rayna was shaking her head. "Do you remember the role I played in that movie last year? Sylvia?"

"Oh, Rayna!" said her mother in disgust. "That was an awful role! I hated to see you like that! So cold! So cruel! I refused to even watch the movie when it came out, if you remember."

Rayna squeezed her hand. "Yes. I reprised that role for Ed today."

Her mother stared at her open-mouthed for a moment, then swallowed and said, "Well. Oh, my."

Rayna sighed deeply. "Oh, Mama! The look on his face when he left!" Fresh tears formed at the corners of her eyes. "I knew when I left London that I’d never see him again. I _knew_ that. But somehow it wasn’t so bad, because . . . because I knew how he felt about me. But now . . . ! Oh, Mama! How I hate myself for doing that to him!"

"You did it for the best of reasons, dearest," her mother said soothingly. "Isn’t it better that he live than that he love you still?"

The tears fell unheeded down Rayna’s face. "Yes," she said miserably.

***

He woke in the morning with an aching head and the conviction that life had nothing of any value to offer him any longer. But after staring at the ornate ceiling of his hotel room for several minutes, he dragged himself out of bed and went to stand under the shower. Once he had some coffee in his system, he felt marginally more human. He met his bloodshot eyes in the mirror, then turned away in self-disgust. What good had come from drowning his sorrows in booze? The morning still came, bringing cold reality with it. He’d solved nothing by wallowing in his misery. And now he had to buy Alec another bottle of vodka.

He idly picked up the list he’d been compiling of the libraries he wanted to visit before going home. He hoped to find some overlooked treasure in their rare books section, some tome that might illuminate the history behind one of the fiercest men who ever lived. Many Romanians thought of Vlad Dracul III as a great military leader, and he most assuredly had been, holding off invading armies almost miraculously for years. But others saw him as a monster, a demon from the dark who would suck the life out of their loved ones without a glimmer of remorse. Straker had always been intrigued by the dichotomy, wanting to know the truth behind all the mythos.

But as he fingered his list, written so enthusiastically on the ride up to Brasov yesterday, he found he wasn’t in the mood for reading today. He wanted movement. He craved action. Anything to help him forget for a moment that he ached all the way down to the molecular level.

Then he remembered where he was.

A quick call got him the services of Leonid for the day, and he dressed almost eagerly, glad for an excuse to leave the hotel and immerse himself in history for a while.

***

Poenari Castle covered the top of an extremely steep cliff near the Fagaras Mountains and could only be reached by climbing 1480 wide steps from the valley floor. Straker leaned his head back and surveyed the ruins so high above him. Yes, such a walk was just the tonic he needed. The castle was an engineering marvel, well-protected from any encroachment by the sharp incline of the cliff on which it sat and the fact that any invading army had to first traverse the narrow valley below in full sight of the castle before they could even think about getting up those steps. Then they had to somehow still have the energy to fight once they finally reached the top.

It had been in ruins for some time when a young Wallachian ruler saw its potential and rebuilt it in 1457, further fortifying it to the point that it held off all comers for many years. Which was why the ruins figured in many guidebooks as Dracula’s Castle.

It was a brisk clear day with a marvelous view of the Arges River as he climbed. He wasn’t surprised that there were few people about, especially since there was an intact castle much closer to Brasov that called itself Bran Castle, which did not require its guests to prove their physical endurance before they even got in the door. That castle boasted secret stairways and souvenir t-shirts, as well as a room dedicated to Dracula and the author who had brought his legend to readers around the world. But Dracula had never lived at Bran Castle. Straker much preferred this dynamic ruin, the seat of the Wallachian prince’s power for most of his rule.

Once he reached the top, he wandered the ruins. None of the remaining walls were above a story high, but with very little imagination, he could get the feel of what it must have been like to live there back in the day. The view from the battlements was breathtaking. He could see far into the mountains beyond the river, and it was almost intoxicating to be so close to the sky. He could easily understand how a man could get delusions of godhood in this place.

"What do you think of our ruins?" asked a voice in Romanian, and Straker turned to see a slender gentleman standing nearby, his dark eyes proclaiming his nationality even more than his language.

He answered honestly in Romanian. "I think they’re magnificent."

"Ah!" said the gentleman. "They speak to you, do they?"

Straker nodded and reached out to touch the stone wall before him. "Of many things."

"Such as?"

Talking to someone for the first time all day reminded him suddenly of his conversation with Rayna the day before, and Straker felt depression settle over him once more. He gazed out over the cliff and shrugged. "That even what looks solid doesn’t last. No matter how much you might wish otherwise. Time crushes everything eventually. Nothing lasts forever."

The Romanian gave a small smile. "You wish for immortality?"

"God, no!" Straker said in surprise. "Who would want that?"

The elegant gentleman stepped closer, looking curiously at him. "Do not all men in their hearts wish to be immortal?"

"Not if they’ve got any sense," the commander said wearily. "Who could endure it? Centuries of war, battle, and betrayal. Watching everyone you care for die, either in battle or from old age. Being alone forever. Where’s the advantage in that? What would be the purpose?"

"There would be . . . compensations."

"Not enough," Straker assured him. "I can think of no fate worse than that."

"How intriguing!" murmured the Romanian. "You would prefer to live less than a century, all your brilliance and ingenuity perishing with you when you die?"

Once more, Straker touched the stone ruins in front of him. "Sometimes a man’s ingenuity remains."

The Romanian’s head tilted slightly, his dark eyes intent on the commander’s face. "You admire Dracula?" he asked softly.

"I admire what he accomplished. He fiercely protected his people against all invaders. His methods were certainly unorthodox – and perhaps a bit highhanded at times. But he got results, didn’t he? He kept this region safe. How could I not admire such a man?"

"It is unusual for a foreigner to have such an opinion of him," the gentleman said. "Most come here looking for a vampire."

"I’m not that gullible."

"No. I see that you’re not. It would be interesting to speak with you further on the subject of Dracula, seeing that you have such a respect for him. I have a small home in the village in the valley. Perhaps you would honor me by joining me for a drink after you leave here?"

Straker thought personally that he’d indulged enough in drink recently to last him for some years to come, but he was touched by the man’s hospitality. "Thank you. I should like that. Where is your home located in the village?"

"Not to worry. I shall wait for you at the bottom of the steps and show you the way." The Romanian gave him a small bow in salute before heading for the exit. "Take your time," he assured Straker over his shoulder as he left. "Enjoy the view."

　

　

 **Chapter 3**

 ****In spite of his new acquaintance’s invitation for him to take his time, Straker did not linger long after he left in the ruins of the castle. For one thing, he did not wish to seem discourteous by making the gentleman wait for him. And for another, the broken battlements around him suddenly seemed too reminiscent of his own life, which – no matter how he’d worked to shore it up over the years – nonetheless lay in ruins around him.

His mind tortured him with thoughts of Rayna as he descended the steps, reminding him of his foolish passion and his naive belief that she felt the same for him. How powerful that had made him feel! How invincible! To be loved as you yourself loved – was there any greater aphrodisiac?

But like these ruins, it had been only the shape of a concept, lacking any actual substance in reality.

He looked for his new acquaintance and finally saw him much further down on the steps, passing by a woman who stood staring up at the ruins with wide eyes. But – no. She was staring up at him!

"Rayna?" he whispered, stiffening in shock, hardly able to accept the evidence in front of him, because it didn’t make sense. Why would Rayna be here? He was practically speechless to think that she had apparently followed him, and he had no idea what she could want that would bring her so far out of the city?

But she did not leave him in doubt for long.

"Ed! For God’s sake! What are you doing here? Why didn’t you go home to England?" she demanded as soon as she was close enough. "What could you have been _thinking?_ "

He was not a man used to being roundly scolded. "I beg your pardon?" he said icily.

She recoiled slightly at his tone, having never been privileged to witness his anger before. "Why did you not go home yesterday?" she asked when she recovered.

"I have other interests in Romania than you," he said coldly, furious that she felt she had the right to question his movements. "Surely it’s permissible for me to pursue them at my leisure without your expressed approval?"

"Fine!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "But why _here?_ Could you not have even the slightest hint of self-preservation to keep you away from this place? What lunacy possessed you?"

"That’s it. I’m done." He turned from her and headed down the steps.

Rayna ground her teeth and tore at her hair. She stomped her boot and let out a string of Romanian curses beyond his vocabulary that blued the air around her, culminating in a few that he perfectly understood. " _Idiot! Imbecil!_ "

He rounded on her. "Do you think you can possibly insult me more than you already have? Do you honestly think I give a damn what your opinion is of me at this point? You had your say yesterday, and I was quite ready to leave it at that. But since you’ve been so determined to stick your nose into my affairs, let me tell you that I find you the lowest form of humanity it has been my misfortune to meet. Your pettiness, your shallow heart, strip all that loveliness away from you and reveal you to be nothing better than what is to be expected of your sort. Which is less than dirt. I want nothing further to do with you. Understood?"

Her face went white, and he turned away and descended the steps, refusing to allow himself to feel remorse for laying into her.

After a while, he heard her boots on the steps as she raced to catch up with him once more. His lips tightened as he prepared himself for another round of argument. But she merely walked a step behind him down the steps, saying nothing for a space of time.

Then she looked at him cautiously, as if feeling her way. "Did anything happen to you while you were here? Did anyone bother you? Were you accosted in any way?"

"Only by you," he said angrily and lengthened his stride.

She grabbed his arm to slow him, but released it when he turned on her, his blue eyes as bitter as ice.

"Don’t touch me! What do you want, Rayna? Why are you here? We have nothing more to say to each other. I’ve given you all the time I intend to give. Surely you can find something better to do than to harass me?"

"I’m trying to save you, you fool!"

He looked at her in disbelief. "You certainly have an odd way of going about it."

"Listen to me, Ed! Did you speak to anyone here? Were there other people around? Was it – wait! There was someone, someone who came down before you did." She whirled around and searched the lower steps, seeing the gentleman making his way toward the valley below. She turned back to him and said urgently, "Who was that, Ed? Did he speak to you? Did you get his name? What did he want?"

He gave her a look of disdain. "I don’t believe that’s any of your business, is it?"

"Fine! Hate me then!" she said fiercely. "But tell me who it _was_!"

"You saw him yourself," he said dismissively. "He passed you on the steps. What is the problem?"

"No, no! I wasn’t paying any attention! I was looking at you. I needed to make sure that you were alright. Are you alright?"

His lips thinned. "What do you care?" He brushed past her and continued down the steps toward the bottom.

"Damn you!" She came after him, scrambling to get in front of him so that she could stop him with a hand on his chest. "You _will_ tell me! Or – or I’ll get your driver to turn you over to the local constabulary!"

He raised an arrogant brow at her. "For what cause?"

She smirked at him. "We do not need causes in Romania. We only need accusations."

He stepped closer, his eyes like chipped ice. "Don’t threaten me unless you intend to make it good."

She deflated at the challenge in his eyes, but when she glimpsed the gentleman further down, she turned back and said, "Fine! Be an idiot and keep vital information from me when I have sworn to protect you! I shall talk to your friend instead, shall I? Perhaps he will be more persuadable."

He grabbed her arm before she’d gone a step. "Don’t you dare bother him! He’s done nothing to you. Leave him alone."

"Who is he, Ed? If you know him well, just say so! Surely you must see that my question is not an idle one?"

He sighed, unable to deny that her persistence in the face of his anger proved that the matter might actually be of some importance. "I don’t know his name. We only spoke for a short time. But he invited me to visit him at his home in the valley to talk some more. Are we done now?"

She frowned at him. "No. What did you discuss?"

"We talked about the ruins."

"What about the ruins?"

He shrugged. "Nothing in particular. It was an average conversation. Like the weather."

She stared into his eyes for a moment, obviously unsure, then she said, "Alright," and relaxed somewhat, walking next to him in silence as they descended the steps.

After a while in her quiet companionship, he began to think that it felt natural and right to have her there by his side, and he asked rather tartly, "What did you think happened to me, Rayna? Did you think I’d run afoul of the Secret Police or something? Or were you perhaps expecting me to be conversing with a vampire?"

"We call it the Securitate here," she said absently. "Not the Secret Police. And you wouldn’t know a vampire if he bit you!"

He ignored that last remark and said sarcastically, "I suppose you know many of the Secret Police personally."

Her lips quirked slightly. "Oh, I have several relatives in the Securitate. How do you think I knew where to find you?"

"Well, you’ve found me now. I don’t know what you were expecting, but I’m obviously unharmed. No bite marks. No sudden cravings for uncooked meat. I’m fine. Feel free to go and report that to your superiors. I won’t keep you."

She ignored his sarcasm entirely. "I didn’t say that I was a part of the Securitate, Ed. Just that some of my family is. And you don’t understand anything about vampires if you think they drink your blood."

"Yes," he sighed wearily. "And it’s always back to vampires. Seriously, Rayna. While I suppose I should try not to be offended by you concerning yourself with this ‘poor hapless tourist who doesn’t know the ways of your country,’ you’re really not going to make me believe that there are vampires out there waiting to pounce upon anyone left to themselves for more than a minute."

By now they had reached the valley, and Straker looked around for the gentleman he’d spoken to in the ruins. But they were alone at the bottom of the steps.

Rayna asked, "Where is this new friend of yours meeting you? Did he give you directions to his house?"

"No. He said he’d wait for me here."

Her dark eyes searched their surroundings for a moment. Then she turned back to him and demanded, "What else did he say to you, Ed? What else did you talk about?"

"It was nothing. We just talked. Stop trying to make something mysterious out of it!"

"Then where is he?"

He frowned, looking around them at the empty valley. "I don’t know. Perhaps he saw you talking to me on the steps and assumed that I’d met up with a friend and wasn’t coming to his house after all. It’s a shame. I’d hoped he might be able to tell me something more about Dracula."

Rayna gasped and clutched his arm. "You talked to him about Dracula? Ed, are you insane? What did you say? What did _he_ say?"

"Look, will you just stop this nonsense! This is Dracula’s castle. Of course, we talked about him!" Straker sighed, wishing his head didn’t ache so much from the hangover and his heart didn’t ache so much from seeing her again. "Rayna, you have more than an average intelligence. You know better than to believe this ridiculousness. Vampires don’t exist."

"And this is why you cannot be left to yourself, Ed! Because you _don’t_ believe!"

"I’m sure I’m not the only person who doesn’t believe in vampires," he said waspishly. "There are likely many such people in Romania right now."

"Yes, and they won’t live long," she said darkly. "Staying alive in Romania requires constant vigilance. And if you don’t believe, why would you bother to be vigilant?"

"You don’t need to worry about me," he assured her dismissively. "I’m always on the alert."

"Yes. Of course!" she said scathingly. "Which is why you talked to a man you don’t know about things you know nothing about!"

He looked at her for a moment as she stood there, her hair tossed in the breeze and her hands on her hips. And her dark eyes full of fear – for him. "Rayna?" he said, unexpectedly done in by her concern for him – concern that made her scold him as if he were a schoolboy.

"What?" she asked crossly.

"Shut up."

Her mouth opened in shock – and he pulled her to him, crushing her lips under his.

His mind was screaming at him that he was ten times a fool for inviting her in to destroy him again, but the rest of him was blissfully grateful to have her so close once more. She moaned, and he deepened the kiss, drawing her closer still. When he came up for air, he stared at her, and she at him, for endless moments.

Then they kissed again.

This time when they surfaced, he took her by the arms and stepped back, trying to regain his bearings. And his sanity. He didn’t understand anything that was going on, but of one thing he was certain. She was not indifferent to him. "Rayna, why did you say those things to me yesterday? Why would you deliberately hurt me that way?"

She closed her eyes in shame. "Oh, Ed! I’m so sorry! I was trying to protect you."

"From what?" he asked in bewilderment. Then he shook her, glaring at her. "For God’s sake, Rayna! From vampires? You tore me to shreds to protect me from _vampires?_ Now who’s insane?"

"You don’t understand anything!" she retorted in return, throwing up her hands and stomping her boots.

"Then explain!" he demanded in exasperation.

"Ed," she said on a sigh. "When you say vampires, you have an image in your mind of what that word means. When I say it, I have my own image. And the two are nothing alike. This isn’t the movies. You don’t understand what you’re dealing with here!"

He stared at her in silence for a moment, considering. "Then let me understand. Let me do the research I came here to do. You could help me, if you would. Show me where to look. Tell me what I need to know."

She shook her head. "I cannot. I took a vow."

"I see. So that’s what ‘Never tell’ means. Well, I suppose it was too much to hope you would help me anyway. Since you think I’m such an idiot."

She grinned unrepentantly at his dry tone. "You made me as mad as fire! I could not believe you would put yourself into such danger! You could have been killed!"

He smiled softly at her. "Instead I was harangued by a harridan."

She gave that choke of laughter that went straight to his heart. "Do you truly wish to learn about Dracula, Ed? The truth? Not what the books say, but what really happened?"

"Yes. You must know that I do."

She grimaced. "I suppose anyone foolish enough to come alone to this cursed place must be desperate for information."

"Is it cursed?" he asked in surprise. "I didn’t find it so."

She rolled her eyes at him. "It is considered the most haunted place in the world!"

He smiled at her frustration. "I suppose you’re going to say ghosts are real too?"

After a speechless moment, she said decisively, "I will take you to my father. He can explain it to you. He has fought Dracula for many years and can tell you many things – things that you will probably find unbelievable. But they are true." She met his eyes bravely. "Will you come, Ed, and talk to him? I know I hurt you unbearably. But will you trust me enough to listen, to let him tell you the truth?"

"Trust you?" He sighed and took her hand. "I don’t know how it is, Rayna, but I find that I do indeed trust you. God help me if I’m wrong!"

She gave him a relieved smile and led him toward the village, where his driver waited with the car. "I know you may not believe this, but I am aware that you’re not really an idiot."

"You are?" He searched her dark eyes for a long moment, then he smiled. "Well, at least that’s something."

　

 **Chapter 4**

 ****Straker relieved Leonid for the rest of the day and rode back to the city with Rayna. He had some opportunity to regret that action, however, since she made the three hour journey in less than two hours. He’d opened up his sleek car on England’s roads a time or two himself; he wasn’t averse to speed when the mood struck. But he found that it was a very different proposition when you weren’t the one behind the wheel. It wasn’t even as though they were in any great hurry. But apparently Rayna only had one speed when she drove – and that was extremely fast. He eventually realized that the best thing for his sanity was not to watch the road.

Instead, he looked at Rayna.

She drove with an arrogant confidence that spoke to something inside him and almost made him smile. But instead he sighed. Because that was the heart of the matter, after all, wasn’t it? She spoke to him on a level no one had ever touched before. It was as though there was some resonation at the very core of her being that aligned with something at his core, bringing them both into harmony whenever they were together. He’d noticed it from the first day they’d worked together on the set, and he wasn’t the only one. The movie’s director had been ecstatic over the dailies, even going so far as to equate their onscreen chemistry with that of Bogie and Bacall. It was an exaggeration, of course; the kind film directors were always making. But Straker had understood what he’d meant.

And that resonance had been conspicuously absent when he’d talked to her the day before.

He’d been aware of it; had known right away that something was off. But he’d been so unsure of himself that he hadn’t been able to keep his balance long enough to get to the bottom of the problem. And she had pulled the rug right out from under him.

It was his own fault really. He wanted to marry her. From day one he’d known that, and each day in her company had only further cemented that knowledge. But that avenue being denied him, he had found himself coming up with scenario after scenario until he’d finally hit on one that allowed them to be together – but only for one night. It wasn’t even close to what he wanted, but he knew he could make it do; the memory of that night had the capacity of sustaining him for the rest of his empty existence, making life without her in it at least bearable.

But he wasn’t a man who thought in terms of one night stands. He never had been. When he loved, he loved deeply, with every fiber of his being; his commitment total and absolute. His mind simply didn’t work on the level of the temporary. He dealt in permanence. So he’d been uneasy with the solution he’d come up with from the start, and in fact, had been rather relieved when she’d vetoed it. At least, the part of him that wasn’t hurting had been.

However, in the end, the sheer magnitude of what they felt for each other had been more than either of them could stand against. And their shared night had deepened their connection with an intimacy that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying. He’d been unable to even think about seeing her again, because he knew what he’d have done. He’d have left everything – the studio, SHADO, all his responsibilities – and gone with her. And that could not be allowed to happen. So he had buried himself at HQ, refusing to go topside and work on the movie set. He hadn’t even taken meetings, knowing that if he let himself work around the studio, he’d be drawn to the set of the movie to look at her once last time – and that would be one time too many.

But after she’d gone and the threat to his peace of mind was alleviated somewhat, he hadn’t been able to forget what he’d tasted for that one brief moment of time. Companionship. True companionship. A soul-deep harmony of two minds and hearts that had blasted forever his previous conceptions of love and life. And he wanted it. Wanted more of it. So he’d come up with another plan – this one as pathetic as the first. Worse really, because in the end, it reduced everything they felt for each other to something much less than communion – and even made it a little sordid. And that didn’t sit at all well with him. But he’d had no better solution.

So when he’d come to her family home in Brasov, he’d almost wanted her to refuse – as she had that first night – to go along with his plan. He didn’t want a cheapened version of their special connection. He wanted the real thing. He wanted eternity with her. So he’d been braced for her refusal, needing it even though he also wanted any excuse to be near her. And that division within himself had kept him off-balance, making it possible for her to get away with lying to him.

He’d been in the film industry for too many years to be easily fooled by an act, even one enacted by such an accomplished actress as she was. But he hadn’t seen it, even though it was quite obvious to him in retrospect. He hadn’t felt that connection with her. He hadn’t felt anything from her. And that should have been his first clue. But since he’d gone there wanting her to say no, he’d too easily accepted her words. And even at that, it wasn’t her rejection that had hurt. It had been her denial that the connection between them had ever existed. That was what had crushed him. That – and the fact that for the first time since knowing her, he hadn’t felt it himself.

Now, sitting next to her in the car, he couldn’t believe that he’d been foolish enough to take her at her word. Everything inside him responded to her presence, resonating on a frequency that was almost audible. And she felt it too. Every once in a while, her eyes would meet his – and he could see her thoughts as clearly as if she spoke them aloud. There was no way to remain angry with her for pushing him away. Especially since she had done it with the best of intentions, although possibly misguided ones. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t done practically the same himself when he had ignored her during her last day at the studio.

He didn’t know where they could go from here. Nothing had changed. There was still no hope for them to be together on a permanent basis. But he was more than ever convinced that they had to find some way around the restrictions. Some way to make Security back off. Because he needed her. And wasn’t sure what he’d do if he was forced to live without her.

"Rayna," he said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "I didn’t mean those things I said to you at the castle ruins."

She gave him a wry look. "I know. But I deserved them. I hated myself for what I’d done, so I can hardly be upset if you hated me too."

"I realize that you were trying to protect me, but how? What were you trying to accomplish with your lie?"

She sighed, giving him a disgusted glance before returning her gaze to the road. "I was trying to get you to go home, Ed! To England, where you would be safe. But you insisted on putting yourself in harm’s way, and I think it’s too late to try to send you home now."

"Why?"

Her hands clenched on the wheel for a moment. "Because of that man. The one at the ruins."

He frowned at her. "Who do you think he was? Are you certain he was a threat?"

"No. I am certain of nothing. But it was a coincidence for him to be there the same time that you were and to speak to you. And coincidences do not happen often in Romania."

"I see."

She suddenly slammed her palms against the steering wheel. "I was so stupid not to get a good look at him! I yell at you about the necessity for constant vigilance, then I am so careless myself!"

"Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s obvious that you were worried for me. But honestly, I really don’t think I was in any danger. I didn’t feel threatened by him."

She said nothing for a time, thinking about it. Then she blurted, "Alexi is missing!"

He turned to her in surprise, and she said, "My little brother. Well – not so little. He is twenty-six. But he has been gone with no word for over two weeks, and in my family, that is not good. He has not been – alright for some time now. Three years ago, his fiancee was murdered in her apartment in New York."

"I’m so sorry." He remembered the report Alec had given him. The details of the girl’s death had not been pretty.

She swallowed and said, "It hit us all very hard. We truly adored Melissa. But it hit Alexi hardest of all. We knew, you see. We knew who had killed her. Oh, he did not do it himself. He has not left Romania for many decades now. But he ordered it done, and so it was. His reach is long. And this is why it may not be safe for you even once you return home. He has people everywhere."

"Why would Dracula care about me?"

She shook her head. "I don’t know. But it’s possible that by going to the ruins, you have caught his attention. And if that is the case, then nowhere will ever be safe for you again. That is what concerns me."

"Why did he go after your brother’s fiancee?" he asked, beginning to understand why she was so overprotective of him. If her brother was missing, she’d be bound to panic easily.

"To teach him a lesson. Alexi had stumbled onto something in New York; some scheme the devil had been involved in. And he’d alerted my father, who sent help to stop it. Well, as I have said, Dracula has people everywhere, and word must have gotten to him about who had found him out. So he murdered Melissa as a sign to Alexi to stay out of his business."

"Why not just kill your brother?"

She grinned fiercely. "Even Dracula would think twice before coming against our family. And he has reason to give us some space. After all, we are the few people in the world who know what he is. He wouldn’t want the truth to come out, because he likes it that most people are afraid of him. He would not appreciate being hunted down like an animal."

"Why hasn’t he been?"

She sighed. "Because, like the animal he is, he is cunning. We have never been able to locate his hiding place. Sometimes we get close, very close – then he moves." She shrugged. "This war has gone on for more years than you can imagine. He prefers not to antagonize us too much, because a Dalco on the rampage is a terrible thing. He was nearly destroyed at my great great grandfather’s hands, and he will not soon forget that. So he avoids us as much as possible."

"But you think he may have gone after your brother?"

"No." Her lips trembled for a moment, then she said, "I think that my brother has gone after _him_. You see, after Melissa died, my father had Alexi come to Romania. He wanted to keep him under his eye, to protect him as best he could from trouble. But especially to put him to work in other areas, so that he would no longer be under the eye of the devil. Alexi has a temper that is fierce, and my father did not want him to do anything foolish, like going after Dracula himself."

"I see. And you think that your brother has done just that."

"Yes. You see, something occurred a few weeks ago. Something Alexi was working on. I don’t know what it was, because my family prefers that I stay as far out of this as possible. My parents wish for their children to live at least a semi-normal life. And mine has been perhaps the most normal of all. But whatever occurred a few weeks ago somehow gave Alexi an idea, because he called me very excited one night. I of course immediately called and informed my father, because although I love my brother very much and would never betray him, this was different. He could get killed. But my father was too late. Alexi had already gone. And we were not able to figure out what he’d learned to set him off, and so were not able to follow him to bring him back."

"But you’re sure he went after Dracula."

"Yes."

"I see."

She dashed a hand across her eyes before continuing. "Since Melissa’s death, I have not let myself get very close to anyone. I saw what it did to my brother, and I have a strong sense of self-preservation. I would not willingly put myself into the position to be devastated like that." She met his eyes momentarily, then looked back at the road. "But then I met you. And oh! I was so terrified! I did not at all want to feel what I felt for you. In fact, I denied it as long as I could. But eventually I found myself thinking that it might be possible for us after all. I don’t work in an area that would ever put me under the scrutiny of the devil, and you . . ." Again she looked his way. "You have a quality – a certain solidity to you, like steel in your soul – that is quite noticeable. And it intrigued me – and made me feel safe around you. And I began to think that even if you found out the truth of what my family deals with, you would be alright. We might be able to have that semi-normal life together. Because of that steel.

"But then you came to me and said that we could never be together. Oh, it was so wonderful to know that you felt as I did! That you wanted that togetherness as well! But I also knew that when you said it was impossible, that you truly meant that too." She paused, then added, "I was so overjoyed that you wanted a night with me! But I was afraid – afraid that I would be just as devastated by taking that night, then having to leave you, than if you were to be killed because of me."

"And you were right," he said. "Right all along to fear that. It was a stupid plan."

She gave him a soft smile. "Perhaps. But I was very tempted."

He ran a hand down her arm. "And you changed your mind."

She nodded. "It hurt so much, being without you. Knowing all the time that we both wanted to be together. And I couldn’t do it – couldn’t leave England knowing I’d never see you again. In the end, I didn’t even care that it would devastate me once I returned home. Nothing mattered but seeing you again, being with you for that one night you could give me."

"It changed me," he said quietly. "It changed everything. I didn’t know how to make it without you once you had gone, Rayna. I didn’t know what to do. Except come up with another stupid plan."

She squeezed his hand. "If that is all we can have, Ed, then we’ll take it and make what we can of it. But for right now we must find a way to protect you from something much worse than cursed destiny."

"Let me guess. Cursed Dracula?"

***

He sat on his throne and brooded. "Bring me a prisoner!" he demanded.

A servant rushed forward. "Yes, my Prince. Which one, my Prince?"

He waved a slender hand dismissively. "It hardly matters."

The servant hurried away to do his bidding, and the Prince returned to his thoughts. He found himself in the unusual state of being unsure how to proceed in the situation confronting him. The meeting today among the ruins had not gone at all as planned, and he dearly needed to have a clear head in order to decide his next move. It disturbed him that his mind was muddled concerning Commander Straker. It should have been a simple matter to dispatch him. But somehow, it had not been simple at all.

He glowered as his servants brought up a prisoner from the dungeon and prepared to stake him for the Prince’s amusement. It was that wine merchant, the one who had refused to sell him the quantities of wine he’d requested at the price he was willing to pay. Well, one of his own men was running that company now, and the wine merchant had not seen sunlight in many months. The man blinked rapidly in the sunlight that came through the windows as he swaying stupidly in the middle of the room, and the Prince smiled. Let him enjoy it for these few minutes. He would not enjoy anything for very much longer. Indeed, his servants were already preparing the pole for him.

The Prince’s eyes gleamed as the wine merchant’s screams pierced the air. Watching the display before him helped his mind to finally clear of its fog, and he tried to determine what had stayed his hand today. Why had he not knifed the commander in the back as he had planned and tossed him over the cliff edge? The fool had the temerity to come onto the Prince’s ground in the first place. He would have been doing a great favor to all the pale man’s enemies to have killed him. What had stopped him?

As the wine merchant’s screams rose in intensity, the Prince frowned once more. Replaying the scene in his mind, he began to see why he had hesitated. The strength of the man had been a surprise – and quite unexpected. Not his physical strength, although his slender frame was stronger than it appeared at first glance, since he had not even been winded from the long climb. But his inner strength – a certain luminosity that shone from his eyes. There had been a power there that reached in and grabbed the Prince by the throat, and he had instead engaged the commander in conversation, curious enough to wish to explore that fierce vitality.

The Prince had been amazed at the man who had been revealed. The pale man spoke of eternity as if he’d looked long into it, then turned away. He spoke of war as if it wearied him unbearably, even though he had not a fraction of the Prince’s years. And he spoke of loneliness as if none knew better than he how debilitating it was. How wrenching. How agonizing.

And the Prince had been moved beyond anything that he’d felt for some time. Straker’s words on the hollowness of being eternally alone had pierced him with their undeniable truth. And suddenly, he’d gotten a different image than death in his thoughts as he conversed with the commander. Instead, he saw an image of the two of them, seated at dinner, speaking of weighty topics over good meat and wine. Talking long into the dark night – goblets and cigars in hand in front of a roaring fire – about subjects no one the Prince knew even understood. And the Prince had been seduced by that image – mesmerized by the possibility of a companion, a friend to share this immortality with. One who knew what it was to have the burden of leadership; one who was aware of all that the universe had to offer anyone quick enough to take it. One who had the brilliance of mind to respect the greatest ruler in all history.

He had offered to talk more with him in a more relaxed setting, hoping to instill in the pale man a desire for more of his company. He had the use of any house in the village that he wished. The villagers were all terrified of him and would play the servant to him in their own home, if need be. But their second discussion had been cancelled unexpectedly when the Dalco woman had shown up.

The Prince’s fierce eyes narrowed as he dwelt unlovingly on that disagreeable family. How they had made life difficult for him over the centuries! And since they seemed to breed like maggots, he had the hardest time keeping ahead of them. Indeed, that damned boy of theirs had managed to pierce his most secret hiding place, so infuriating the Prince that it had taken all his willpower not to immediately slice him in two. But wisdom had prevailed, and he’d gotten so very much information from the boy in the end that he’d felt amply rewarded for his restraint.

But it was not good news to see Straker allied in any way with the Dalcos. And even though their initial exchange had been heated on her side and icy on his, the Prince well knew that mix of passions and was not fooled into thinking them enemies. And in the end, they had embraced and left together. And he had lost his chance – either to kill him or to intrigue him.

The merchant’s cries had died down to guttural moans, and the Prince realized that he’d been so preoccupied that he’d missed part of the show. He sat back on his throne, clicking his fingers for a servant to bring him a goblet of wine to enjoy while the merchant twitched in his death throes. Well, he had set certain events into motion of which Straker might now become a part because of his association with the Dalcos. It was too late to change that now, so the Prince would simply have to wait and see how the game was played from here on out. And he did not like to have to wait. He preferred knowing ahead of time what course to take – whether to strike or whether to hide.

But he could not easily relinquish the thought of that roaring fire.

　

　

 **Chapter 5**

 ****Once he saw where her father worked, Straker could not keep his amusement from showing. "So this is why you threatened to turn me over to the police!" he said, his blue eyes twinkling as she led him past the constable at the main desk on their way to her father’s office.

Rayna grinned at him over her shoulder. "In Romania, it’s all about who you know."

His lips quirked. "Actually, I think it’s pretty much that way anywhere."

She acknowledged that with a nod. "Papa has been Chief of Police in Brasov almost since he returned to Romania eight years ago. My uncle Grigore was chief before him."

"What happened to Grigore?"

She paused at the door to her father’s office and met his eyes. "He retired. Now he grows squash and drives my aunt Cosmina crazy." He chuckled, and her grin widened as she opened the door.

Anton Dalco sat behind his desk and looked up at their arrival, his dark brown eyes razor sharp in an otherwise friendly face. Straker was fairly certain that with that combination, he would be an excellent diplomat. The Chief of Police’s gaze lightened on seeing his daughter enter, and he said, "Well, Rayna! And what brings you here? Out causing trouble, are you?"

She smirked at him as she went around the desk to kiss his cheek. "You know me too well, Papa."

"And who is your friend?" her father asked, having gathered much already from their body language.

Rayna came back around the desk and took Straker’s hand. "Papa, this is Ed Straker. He runs the film studio in England where I just finished doing a movie."

Anton frowned. Straker was older than his daughter, who he had difficulty thinking of – even after all these years – as an adult, let alone a woman in her mid-thirties. "And he followed you here?"

"Actually, I had another movie for her to consider," Straker said calmly, well aware that he was under her father’s scrutiny. It would have amused him to find himself in this position if he didn’t sympathize with the elder Dalco so much.

"Hmmm."

And Straker was certain that he was quite aware of why he had come.

Chief Dalco said, "Today is not such a good day to visit. Perhaps another time while you are here would be better?"

Rayna sighed. "Papa, I brought Ed here because he’s already managed to get into trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Anton asked, surprised that such an obviously quiet man would do so. "Piotr at the front desk should be able to take care of any difficulty for you. Surely you don’t need my help?"

"It’s not a civil problem, Papa. He went to the Poenari ruins!"

Chief Dalco sat forward at that. "Whatever for?"

Straker sighed. It seemed as though he was having to constantly defend his decision to see those ruins, which left him feeling somewhat of a fool. How was he to know that going there would bring trouble? They were in the guidebook, for God’s sake! "They interested me," he said with a slight edge to his voice.

The chief noted the change in tone and sat back. "Were you accosted?"

"No."

"There was a man," Rayna interpolated. "He spoke to him and invited Ed to his home in the village."

Dalco frowned in thought. "Indeed!"

"Is that significant?" Straker asked.

"I would think so," answered the chief. "None of the villagers would go anywhere near those ruins."

"Superstition?"

Rayna’s father snorted. "Not at all. Too many have died at those ruins for any Romanian to treat them lightly."

"Or disappeared," his daughter added darkly.

Her father nodded. "Or disappeared," he agreed.

"Then why doesn’t the guidebook warn anyone?" Straker asked in exasperation. "Instead of making it sound like such an interesting place to visit?"

"1480 steps straight up a cliff sounds interesting to you?" Dalco asked incredulously. Then he sighed. "Surely as a film producer you understand marketing, Mr. Straker? If the guidebooks touted the ruins as dangerous, what do you think would happen?"

"Of course," Straker said, finally seeing the truth of the matter. "People would flock to them."

"Exactly."

"So you do nothing to dissuade tourists from going there?"

Dalco spread his hands. "There is nothing – and then there is nothing. We use alternative methods."

Straker frowned at him as he mentally reviewed the guidebook he had read. Then he said drily, "Bran Castle. I should have realized. It’s intact, closer to the city, much easier to access, and it even has a Dracula souvenir shop."

The chief grinned, looking very much like his daughter in that moment. "Never underestimate the worth of a well-advertised tourist trap."

Straker nodded approval of their methods. "Misdirection. Very clever. But surely that won’t work with everyone?"

"It didn’t with you," Rayna said, giving him a dark look.

The police chief said, "We save who we can, Mr. Straker. The rest . . . ?" He shrugged philosophically. "They take their chances."

"As I did," Straker said quietly, meeting Rayna’s eyes and realizing now why she had seemed to overreact at the ruins. "So, that man at the castle ruins. He meant to kill me?"

"Possibly."

Straker shook his head. "I don’t think so. I have a pretty good radar for that sort of thing. In my line of work, if I didn’t, I’d have been dead a long time ago. And he didn’t trigger my internal alarms at all."

The chief rubbed his chin for a moment. "Describe him to me."

"He was Romanian; slightly less than medium height, dark eyes, dark hair, elegantly dressed."

Rayna gasped, and her father said, "Did he look familiar to you?"

Straker opened his mouth to answer negatively, but stopped. There _had_ been something remotely familiar about that face. But he saw countless faces every day in his job at the studio, so he had merely assumed that the man resembled someone else. "I’m not sure," he said finally. "I know I’ve never spoken to him before, or I would have remembered him. Why do you ask?"

Rayna started to speak, but her father lifted a hand, effectively silencing her. He removed a small portrait from one of his desk drawers and handed it to Straker. "Did he look similar to this?"

"Yes, this is him. He didn’t have any facial hair when I saw him. Who is he?"

Rayna turned to the bookcase on the side wall and withdrew a large book, bringing it over and shoving it into his hands. She was visibly trembling. "See for yourself!"

He looked from her distraught expression to the front of the book. A small portrait, very closely resembling the one he’d just identified, rested under the large, ornately lettered title. _Bram Stoker’s Dracula_. He met her eyes in shock. "But that’s – ! Seriously?"

She returned the book to the shelves, then wrapped her arms around herself as she came back to the desk. "Papa, I passed him on the steps. I didn’t even notice him. How could I not have noticed him?"

Straker laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You told me why, Rayna. You were worried about me."

Chief Dalco said, "It was perhaps for the best that you did not notice him, Rayna. You would have challenged him, and we already have one member of this family missing."

She shook her head, still trying to come to terms with the fact that she had been in the company of their fiercest enemy for even a moment. Then she looked at Straker. With a gasp, she went into his arms, holding him as tightly as she could. "He came himself! Who knows what he would have done to you? Oh, Ed! You’ll never be safe now! Never!"

"I think it might be of some importance to find out why he came himself," her father said firmly. "Do you know of any reason why he would seek you out?"

Straker ran his hand down Rayna’s back, trying to soothe her. He couldn’t quite believe even now that Dracula was still alive after all these centuries. He’d been so certain that there was another, more logical explanation to explain Rayna’s fears. He finally met her father’s eyes and said, "It makes no sense. I have no idea why he would want to speak to me."

"What did you discuss?"

"The ruins. He asked what I thought of them."

"And you said?"

Straker shrugged. "That I admired them. The entire conversation was innocuous. I can’t imagine . . . wait. He did ask something unusual."

"What was that?"

"He asked if I wanted immortality."

" _What?_ " The police chief came out of his chair at those words. Rayna only gave a low moan and held him tighter.

Straker tried to explain. "I’d said something – I don’t know – along the lines of nothing lasting forever. Referring to the castle ruins. When he asked me the question, I assumed that he thought I wished I could have seen them when they were still intact."

"What answer did you give him?" asked the chief, slowly sitting back down in his chair.

"I told him that I wouldn’t think of it. One lifetime is more than enough to deal with. Who would want several?"

Rayna leaned back to meet his eyes. Hers were wet with unshed tears. "Oh, Ed! You piqued his interest!"

"Nonsense!"

"My daughter may be quite right, Mr. Straker," said Dalco unexpectedly. "There are not many men who would turn down such an offer."

"Was it an offer?" Straker asked in surprise.

"I think . . ." The elder Dalco rubbed his chin for several moments, then he nodded. "I think perhaps it was."

Rayna shuddered in his arms, and he kissed the top of her head reassuringly. "Then it seems as if you did indeed save my life, Rayna. I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time about it."

Her eyes met those of her father. "Papa, what can we do?" she whispered.

The police chief sighed. "Take him home, Rayna. He can dine with us this evening. Later, we will discuss this situation further. Don’t worry, _copilul meu._ We will find our way through this." He stood to shake hands with the man holding his daughter, but before he could do so the door to his office opened and a police constable entered.

The younger man checked at the sight of people in the office, then his eyes sought his chief’s. "Sir!"

"What is it?" he said brusquely, concerned at the interruption.

The police officer said hesitantly, "The missing persons case, sir. He’s been found."

"Where?" the chief barked.

The young man swallowed. "Near the village. Theodor found him and brought him in."

"He’s alive?" Dalco asked grimly.

The constable shrugged. "Apparently."

The police chief did not seem reassured by this news. In fact, he looked quite bleak for a moment. Then he shooed the constable out of his office and turned to his daughter and her friend. "Rayna," he said quietly. "Take Mr. Straker home. Do not linger in the building, but go now. Understand?"

She looked searchingly at him. "Alright, Papa. What missing persons case – ?"

"No questions!" he growled, then preceded them out of the office.

Rayna blinked after him, then met Straker’s eyes. "Something’s wrong."

Straker also thought his reaction was odd. "Perhaps we should do as he says, Rayna."

She nodded. "Very well. Although I don’t know what could have occurred to . . ." At this point, they came out of the hallway and into the front lobby in time to see two police officers escorting a tall young man down another hallway. The police chief followed them.

Rayna gave a sharp gasp. "Alexi!" she yelled and ran after them.

He father swung around and grabbed her arms, stopping her from reaching the young man. The two officers continued with him down the hall, while Chief Dalco grimly met his daughter’s eyes. "No, Rayna!"

She searched his implacable expression for a long time, then seemed to crumble. "No, Papa!" she whispered; not in rebellion, but in denial of all that he wasn’t saying.

Her father patted her shoulder somewhat awkwardly. "Go home. I will care for him now." He met her stricken expression imploringly, then looked at Straker standing behind her. "Please. See that she gets home."

Straker was too stunned to do anything but nod. He took Rayna’s arm and led her outside. But once she was back in the car, she didn’t start the engine. Instead, she stared out the windshield, her dark eyes full of tears that she did not shed. "How _dare_ he!" she said in a furious whisper. " _How dare he!"_

 __"Rayna?" Straker couldn’t be positive that he had seen what he thought he’d seen in the young man’s eyes. Or rather, hadn’t seen. It didn’t even seem possible; Romania had never been on their list of hotspots for alien activity. Besides, the boy had gone after Dracula, not a UFO.

She sucked in a breath, then turned to him. Her eyes were still furious, but her tone was steadier. "My brother is dead."

He frowned. "Then that wasn’t him?"

She nodded absently, turning back to start the car. "Yes, it was Alexi." Her breath hitched momentarily. "My father will give him peace now."

He had a million questions all clamoring to be answered, but after seeing the grief in her face, he only said, "Do you want me to drive?"

She shook her head resolutely. "I am fine. I will be fine. I am a Dalco. May he cower in fear."

And Straker remembered her mentioning that Dracula feared her family. Apparently not enough to keep from thumbing his nose in their face – if he was reading the situation correctly. Suddenly, he was very concerned for Rayna’s well-being.

He stayed silent while she threaded through the traffic with a restrained ferocity that inspired his respect. She had told him that her definition of vampire was very different from his. If what he’d seen at the police station was what it appeared to be, then he had a pretty good idea what her definition of vampire really was: _alien_.

It even made sense in an odd way. A man who was able to survive over a period of centuries off the bodies of others. One who killed indiscriminately – and had always done so as far back as history recorded. A powerful man the natives feared, but who they could not locate in order to destroy. An ‘animal,’ Rayna had called him. One her family had been locked with in a silent war for as long as they’d been aware of his existence. One who made servants for himself by destroying the minds of his victims and using them against their own people. If he was right in his conclusions, then Dracula was an alien.

But that meant that he had come to Earth so long ago that his people could have easily overrun the planet. No one would’ve had the firepower to stop them. So, why hadn’t they taken over?

He had a feeling that Anton Dalco had answers to these questions for him, as well as many of the others currently crowding his brain. But he also had a few answers to give in return. Because he now knew why Dracula would have sought him out at the ruins. There was little doubt that he’d known who Straker really was. The only question that remained was: why had he let him live?

　

　

 **Chapter 6**

 ****Straker sat on the overstuffed armchair in one of the guest bedrooms and gazed out the window. He rarely looked out the window back home in England, but perhaps that was because his house was surrounded by woodland, and he didn’t need the reminder of how isolated he was from the world around him. But here in this beautiful city, he felt much more connected to life. And the view from this upper story bedroom seemed to emphasize that. He could see the lights of nearly the entire neighborhood from here, as well as a good chunk of the city past that. He felt energized – and more alive than he was used to feeling.

Of course, that could also be because he was near Rayna.

Dinner had been a somber affair. None of the family members around the table had spoken much. This was a family grieving, and he had almost felt like an intruder in their midst. Mrs. Dalco had surprised him by her reaction to the news of her son’s death. She almost seemed to have expected it, and her calm acceptance had a settling effect on Rayna’s anger. Indeed, none of the family displayed any dramatics, and Straker wondered how many of their loved ones had died at their enemy’s hands over the years to so inure them to such traumatic news.

But beneath their hushed grief, he could clearly see them joining together into one powerful unit to handle this crisis. The way Rayna’s mother had touched her younger daughter’s hand when she handed her a cup of tea when they first arrived at the house. The way Buna had soothingly run her hand down the eldest daughter’s hair as she slowly rocked back and forth on the settee while Rayna explained the events at the police station. The way the police chief had briefly set his hands on his wife’s shoulders as he went to his chair at the head of the table just before dinner. This was a family that grief could not tear asunder. It only served to bring them closer together, and Straker was in awe of their strength.

He had supposed that his talk with Anton Dalco would be postponed indefinitely while the family dealt with the necessary details of their son’s death. But the police chief had informed him after dinner that he would speak with him later in the evening, although he did not give a specific time as he escorted his wife upstairs. So Straker had retired to the room they had given him for the night, using his secure cellphone to catch up with Alec at HQ and listen to his second-in-command’s many complaints about the way things ran without him there to keep everyone in line. The colonel had asked – once his list of misdemeanors had run down – how his friend was enjoying Romania? And Straker had needed a minute to come up with an answer that wouldn’t cause Alec to immediately rush to his side with guns blazing.

But somehow, "I’m fine" hadn’t seemed to really express what he felt.

He set down his coffee cup when he heard the bedroom door open, but when he looked around, he was surprised to see Rayna enter instead of her father. She was wearing a short burgundy silk negligee under a matching robe, her long hair loose about her shoulders, and his heart rate instantly sped out of control as she came over to where he sat.

"Rayna, you shouldn’t be here," he said as calmly as he could.

She smirked at him. "I live here."

He tried frowning at her, but it was difficult in the face of her dancing dark eyes. "You know what I mean. Your father would not approve of you being in my room."

"Ed, it’s been years since I’ve needed my father’s approval for anything I do." She straddled him in the chair and ran her hands through his hair, nipping lightly at his lips to remove his frown. Then she leaned back and quirked an eyebrow. "Do you need it?"

"I’m a guest in his house," he answered stiffly. "It would hardly be proper . . ."

She grinned. "Are you always a gentleman, Ed?" she asked provocatively. "Funny, but I seem to remember a much more audacious Ed back in England."

He too remembered – far too well – and he suddenly lost any desire to hold her off. "Minx!" he accused against her lips, then crushed her to him.

When he loosened his hold, she quickly yanked his turtleneck over his head, then sat back and admired the results. She ran her hands over his chest, making complimentary noises in her throat that seduced him, making him forget why he had hesitated in the first place. He ran his hands over her breasts, enjoying the feel of them through the silk, and watched her shudder in delight, her head thrown back in pleasure.

"Oh, Ed!" she sighed.

"I missed you so much!" he confessed, bringing her closer so that he could nibble. It was somehow even more erotic to feast on her body through the silk, and he took full advantage of that, licking and suckling until her nipples were rock hard, then torturing her with small bites until she came with a compulsive shiver. Her hands slid out of his hair and onto his shoulders, her head falling forward so that she could press her lips to the top of his head.

He felt her kiss, and the moisture from her tears as well, but he didn’t pull back to see her face. He simply let her hold him close, and held her close in return. He knew that this was – for her – like the other touches she’d received from her family since coming home from the police station. She was drawing on the strength of their love to weather her grief. And he was glad to be here to ease her suffering.

Then he felt her hands stray to the waistband of his pants, and thoughts of death gave way to the joy of life as she took his hard length into her moist heat. He groaned, she groaned, and they stared into each other’s eyes as they rode out the storm of sensation to its devastating climax.

He felt remarkably content afterward, his arms full of soft woman and his legs completely numb from the hips on down. She feathered tiny kisses along his neck and jawline, and he slowly turned his head to meet her lips with his.

She eventually broke the kiss with a sigh of pleasure and sat back. She could feel him still semi-hard inside her, and that intimacy gave her the courage to say what was in her heart. "I need you, Ed. With you around, I can handle anything. Without you – I didn’t do so well." She brushed his cheek with her fingers. "I cried. Every day. I know my parents thought I was crying about Alexi, and I let them. It was easier than trying to talk about you. I couldn’t cope with how much I missed you."

"I didn’t do so well without you either," he said, grimacing slightly when he recalled his fumbling efforts to get her back into his life. "I’m surprised you didn’t slap my face."

She shook her head. "I know I hurt you. I didn’t know what else to do."

"You were trying to protect me. Do you think I don’t realize how pompous I sounded that night at my home, spouting off about Dracula and ridiculing your concerns? Coming here without a thought to the danger you tried to warn me about? I deserved a lot more than what you gave me."

She touched her lips to his for a brief moment. "You can say that now, but I saw your face. I know what I did to you, and I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?"

He thought back to his despair – was it only last night? It felt like such a long time ago, almost from another life. He met her eyes. "Can you forgive me my foolish arrogance? I endangered both of us today. If he hadn’t been alone . . . !"

"Don’t!" Her fingers had instinctively covered his lips, and they lingered there now, caressing instead of silencing him. "We both survived, and that’s a miracle in itself. You know, that’s one of the things I like about you, Ed."

"What?"

She rocked in his lap, and he gasped as his body responded by hardening inside her. She smiled – and kept up her movements. "Well, there are lots of things I like about you actually. Including your stamina. But I was referring to the way that you were here when I needed you – even before I knew I would. So, thanks!"

"Rayna!" She undid him, redirecting his thoughts, returning him to the ecstasy they had so recently shared, finally bringing him to an exquisite moment of intense sweetness before slowly settling him back into reality. When his mind could function again, he ran a hand down her hair and said, "I don’t know when your father will be coming to speak to me."

She sat back and met his blue eyes, a twinkle lighting her dark ones. "It probably wouldn’t make for a pleasant conversation if he found us like this, would it?"

"Probably not."

"Perhaps you’re right," she said, getting off his lap and picking her robe off the floor where it had fallen during their lovemaking.

"Rayna?" he said as she headed for the door. "Will you come back to England with me?"

She came back over to where he sat and kissed him. "Yes, Ed. I don’t care if it is unproductive. It beats the alternative."

He remembered telling her that an affair would be unproductive. It was amazing how much his perspective had changed since then. Right now it seemed like the best idea he’d had in a long time. "Thank you."

She grinned at the seriousness in his voice. "Do you want me to come back after a while and wait here for you to finish talking to Papa?"

"No. I have no idea how long we’ll be, and you shouldn’t have to wait up for me. Get some sleep."

"I don’t mind," she assured him. "The rewards would outweigh any drawbacks."

As he stood up, his lips quirked. "My stamina does have its limits, Rayna."

She choked on a laugh. "Couldn’t prove it by me," she said sassily, but continued on a more serious note. "It would be enough just to hold you, Ed. Surely you know that?"

He ran a hand through her hair to the nape of her neck and drew her closer for another kiss. "It would be heaven, but I won’t repay your father’s hospitality by openly sleeping with his daughter under his roof."

"Well, if you’re going to be a gentleman about it, I can hardly argue with you, can I?" she said with a sigh.

He hid a grin. "No. Good night, Rayna."

"Good night, Ed."

***

The police chief knocked on his bedroom door about twenty minutes later.

He led Straker to his study on the ground floor. It was a good sized room at the back of the house that seemed much smaller than it was because it was overcrowded. Large stacks of books and files were everywhere, covering every table surface and even a good part of the floor. Straker marveled that he could get any work done in such disorder, but the chief seemed to know where everything was in spite of the mess. He moved a stack of files from a chair in front of the desk and gestured for Straker to sit there. He hummed softly under his breath as he found another spot to lay the stack down, and Straker realized that he was much more relaxed than he had been at dinner. He supposed that Dalco had been comforting his wife in much the same manner that he had been comforting the chief’s daughter. And Straker grasped something profound. Dracula would never be able to break this family. Their strength was in their unity, and an alien surviving for centuries on his own in a strange world would never understand that. Would never see that the harder he battered at them, the stronger they’d become. He found it oddly similar to the way things were at HQ, because over the years their core group had grown so much closer together fighting the aliens that they were in many ways almost a family themselves now. It was a pleasant thought, and one that gave him hope for the future.

The police chief sat behind his desk and looked at the man his daughter was so obviously smitten with. Once he got past the age difference – which perhaps wasn’t as great as it had seemed at first, since Straker appeared younger tonight for some reason – he could see where Rayna might be attracted to him. There was a strength to the man that was quite compelling. He would make an excellent leader, and Anton thought it was a shame that he’d wasted those skills on nothing more important than a film studio. Anton had watched him closely at dinner and had seen his quiet demeanor in action; had seen his kindness in the face of their grief, and an old-fashioned charm that revealed itself at odd moments. And he was puzzled. Straker just didn’t seem like the type of man who would produce films for a living. Surely that kind of man was more flamboyant? More full of himself? Well, they would talk about their problem and perhaps come up with a solution. And maybe he would see more of what this man was made of.

"No doubt you have many questions about what occurred today at the police station."

Straker sat back in the chair and met his eyes. "Yes. But it’s just possible that my questions aren’t the ones you’re expecting."

"Indeed?" The police chief looked skeptical.

"For instance: you already knew that your son was dead before they brought him in, didn’t you?"

"What makes you say that?" the chief said in surprise.

"Because of your reaction. As disturbed as you were, you were expecting to hear something like it. Weren’t you? Even your wife didn’t seem to be surprised by the news."

"Ah, my wife!" Dalco rubbed his chin. "My wife, Mr. Straker, is why I was not surprised to learn that my son was dead. She has a tendency to know things, you see. And last night very late she woke from a nightmare and told me that our son was dead. So, you were correct. The only surprise I felt was that we did not find him in pieces."

"I see." Straker tried to imagine any parent calmly dealing with the knowledge of their child’s death. But then, they’d had more warning than he had. "I’m so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. Was that your only question then?"

"No. I also wanted to ask if you know how long ago Dracula came to Earth?"

Dalco was startled and gave the blonde man a piercing look. "You know then? How do you know? Did Rayna . . . ?"

"Rayna said nothing," Straker assured him. "I knew as soon as I saw your son. I have seen others like him many times. Recently, they’ve gotten better at concealing what they are. But your son was easy to spot."

"Better? How much better?"

Straker thought about Craig, who had managed to conceal what had happened to him – not perhaps from everyone – but at least enough to fool his commander for a time. "You haven’t come across that yet?"

The chief shook his head, his face grim. Then he sighed. "It seems we shall have to be on the lookout even more than we are at present. It can be . . . disheartening."

"I’m sure."

"Tell me, how is it that you have dealt with such things? You have run into Dracula before?"

Straker sighed, knowing that the only way to work this situation out to a positive conclusion was for them to forego the secrecy that had kept knowledge of their separate but similar wars from each other all these years. And if Dalco was willing to speak of the unspeakable, then it behooved him to do the same. "No. Not him. But I have dealt with others like him for some years now."

Dalco was startled. "Others? Dear God! How is that possible? You are a film producer, aren’t you?"

Straker’s smile was wry. "That’s just my day job. My real work is as commander for a top secret military base that fights the aliens in an effort to keep them from taking over the planet."

"There are more of them?" The chief’s face whitened. "There’s no way we can fight them all!"

"Well, we have the advantage that they haven’t yet been able to entrench themselves into our societies. Except for Dracula. But he’s different all around, since he came here a lot earlier than the rest of his people. Do you know why that’s so?"

Dalco was still reeling from the news that their alien wasn’t the only one Earth had to handle, so it took him a moment before he answered. "We have histories. Our family has kept good records over the centuries, and we know a little about him from things gleaned over those years – sometimes at a great price. We know that his ship crash-landed on Earth sometime in the year 1451, because it was as he was fleeing to Hungary that Vlad Dracul III was captured by him. We do not know why the alien took Vlad’s body for his own. It is assumed that he must have been injured in the crash and could no longer sustain life in his own body, but we have no proof of this."

"The aliens cannot survive for long in Earth’s atmosphere in their own bodies," Straker said quietly, relieved that Dracula had been alone when he came to Earth.

"Indeed? Well, that explains much." The chief rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment, then continued. "The war changed men, and so it was some time before his family and those around him began to suspect that something strange had happened to the prince. But suspect, they eventually did. And he dealt with them all – in his own way. But our family had served his father for years, and they realized early on that he was not the same prince they had known. They were disturbed by events at the castle and distanced themselves from the Dracul family, leaving the area and finding work wherever they might. It wasn’t until many years later that some members of our family got together and decided that something had to be done about the prince. By then he was ruler of Wallachia, and his cruelty was becoming a legend." He shrugged. "They did not succeed in destroying him. But we have not stopped trying. Sometimes we get close. But in the past century, the hardest part has been that we can’t find him. He has found some place to hide that we have been unable to locate, no matter how well we search. If we only knew where to look, we might have a chance of stopping him once and for all."

Straker said, "Your son found him."

Dalco met his eyes in surprise. Then his eyes fell. "Yes," he said heavily. "Alexi found him. I don’t know how. We’ve gone over everything he was working on in his office. We cannot find anything that would tell us what he found out to send him on his final quest. And since he did not leave us any word of where he was going . . ." Again he shrugged. "We are left with nothing."

"Not necessarily."

The chief looked up. "What do you mean?"

"What was your son working on before he left? Rayna told me that you had tried to keep him well away from anything that concerned Dracula."

Dalco frowned. "This is true. He was in charge of electrical production for the area. A completely innocuous job for him, I would have thought."

"Electricity?" Straker leaned forward. "Power consumption over time would be a definite problem for a man in Dracula’s position. No matter where his hiding place was, he would need to have access to a power grid."

"We have always assumed that he used a power source that he brought with him on his ship," answered the police chief. "None of my ancestors was ever able to trace him through normal avenues."

"It’s possible that time has changed things for him. I’m certain that even his power sources might fail after a century or two. And if there have been any changes in the surrounding terrain over time, those too might have impacted on his ability to keep things running. Didn’t Romania have some difficulty with bad storms a few years ago?"

"Yes, indeed we did." The police chief got up from his desk and went to a pile of large tomes on a side table, lifting one and returning to the desk with it. As he opened it, he said, "Five years ago, there were such terrible storms that we suffered massive landslides in the mountains and flooding in several regions, so much so that even the courses of a few of our rivers were altered. But as you can see, things have returned to normal for the most part, and the repairs that were undertaken have given us the chance to bring electricity to parts of our country that had never had it before." He turned the ledger around and showed Straker the current figures for Brasov and the surrounding areas. "This is what Alexi was working on, updating these records with our newest figures. I have personally gone over this book several times and have not been able to see whatever it was that he saw that led him to Dracula. Even if your assumption is correct, and Dracula has been forced to turn to electricity, there is nothing here to indicate where he might be hidden."

Straker leafed through a few pages, seeing the neatly written numbers from each city, town, and village. Finally he looked up and met Dalco’s eyes. "How far back does this book go? To six years ago, before the bad weather messed things up?"

"No. This book only deals with the past three years. Do you think – ?" Abruptly the chief went to the side table again, returning with a second record book and placing it on top of the other one. "Alexi had this one out at his desk when we searched the office. I had no idea why and assumed that he simply had not put it away in a while." He gestured to the room around them. "I’m afraid that he worked very much as I do myself, and things piled up."

Straker opened the book toward the back and read those pages for several minutes in silence. Then he shifted the book to the side and looked at the current figures. His finger went to one spot on the page and tapped it. "Here. This village. Traviela. Their current electricity consumption is twenty times what it was for 1983. Did any new factories or office buildings go up there in the past six years?"

"What? Are you certain?" Dalco peered closely at the place where Straker’s finger rested. He frowned. "This village is in a secluded valley and has less than five hundred citizens. There should not have been such an increase there. I don’t understand."

"Is this village near anything associated with Dracula?"

Dalco met his eyes, looking bewildered. "But it makes no sense! They are ruins! We’ve been over them a thousand times! There is nothing there! You were there yourself and saw!"

"Poenari Castle," Straker said, sitting back and recalling the ruins to mind.

Dalco looked earnestly at him. "Did you notice anything amiss while you were there?"

The commander shook his head. "No. They were ruins. Nothing more. But the man – Dracula. He came from nowhere. I never saw him walk up the steps after me, yet there he suddenly was among the ruins. And later, when Rayna and I reached the bottom of the steps, he wasn’t anywhere around. It was odd. We should have been able to see him."

"But you’re not making sense! Where could he go? There’s nothing there – you said so yourself!"

"Nothing that I could see," Straker corrected. "But apparently there is indeed something there. Something that requires a great deal of energy to keep hidden."

Dalco sat down rather abruptly in his chair. "How? How could he hide something there among the ruins?"

Straker looked at the police chief for a moment in silence. He felt sorry for him all of a sudden. In reality, he was a simple man, doing his best to protect his society from an ancient and terrible threat. But he was hampered by the limitations of his own education. He truly didn’t understand the alien technology he was up against in this war.

"They have the ability to warp time," he said, wondering how much of what he said would be comprehensible to the chief.

Indeed, Dalco stared at him blankly.

He sighed and tried again to explain. "They can create a bubble of space where time flows at a different rate. If that bubble were to be brought out of phase from normal time slightly, even by a thousandth of a second, then whatever occupied that bubble would be able to coexist in the same place as something in our time frame – and we’d never see it."

"How large a bubble?" Dalco asked after a moment, still striving to picture such a thing.

"In theory? As large as they might need. He might even have an entire castle inside the bubble."

"And he would need power to keep it hidden?"

"Yes. Power from our time frame." Straker leaned forward. "If I’m right, this is what your son found that sent him off after Dracula. He hoped to somehow cripple his power supply and make the castle visible."

Dalco’s eyes lit at this news. "Then we can do that? In theory? Make it visible so that it could be breached?"

"Yes. But if he does have informants all over, it would be best not to give him the chance to evade us when we destroy the castle. We’ll need the element of surprise in order to succeed, or he’ll get away, and you’ll be right back at square one with him."

The chief sighed. "We do not have the firepower to destroy an entire castle. He would be able to slip away no matter what we do."

Straker grinned. "Don’t worry about that. I can get you the firepower."

Dalco stared at him in surprise for a moment, then he too grinned. "How soon can you be ready?"

 **Chapter 7**

It was morning before the details were worked out to their satisfaction. They agreed to handle everything from the police chief’s study, thus keeping the risk of information somehow leaking to Dracula to a minimum. Straker coordinated with Alec at HQ for the skyjets to do a strafing run at 0800 over the Poenari ruins while Dalco spoke to a trusted official in the electrical power department, who would cause a complete power blackout in the village of Traviela and the surrounding area for five minutes beginning at 0800 on the dot.

Straker had a harder time convincing Alec of the gravity of the situation than Dalco did with his official.

"Good God, Ed! You can’t be serious! Dracula’s castle? Are you sure you didn’t get a touch of the sun while you were sightseeing?"

"I’m quite serious, Alec. There is an alien outpost there, and it needs to be completely destroyed. ASAP."

"Alright, Ed. If you say so. But won’t the Romanian government be a bit pissed when you destroy their tourist attraction?"

"Let me worry about that," Straker said, ending the call before his second-in-command could come up with any further arguments. He met the police chief’s eyes for a moment and realized that he had heard Alec’s comment. He asked drily, "Well, do you think we’ll cause an international incident?"

Dalco shrugged. "Who cares? We’ll let the politicians deal with that." He rubbed his hands together. "I cannot believe that after all these centuries, we are so close to ridding our land of that beast!" He saw that Straker’s cup was empty and said, "More coffee?"

"Please."

He took both their cups and left the room, heading to the kitchen to refill them.

Straker was tired, but he was also as exhilarated as his host. If they could destroy Dracula, they would be free of a powerful alien he hadn’t even been aware was in their midst. He knew that, whatever the outcome of their attack today, he could not return to England until they were certain the threat was gone. Or he’d never be able to relax again. Unlike his fellow aliens, Dracula had been on Earth long enough to know just where to strike to destroy a man, and Straker had no intention of being a target for his rage. He needed to know that neither he nor those he loved would be stalked.

He needed to be sure that Rayna would be safe.

He glanced at his wristwatch as Dalco returned to the study. 0754. Almost zero hour. The jets would already be in the air, closing in on their clifftop target. He approached his host to retrieve his cup of coffee, only to realize that the chief had returned empty-handed. He glanced quickly at his face – and saw how devastated he looked, his dark eyes stricken in his white face.

Straker grabbed his arm. "What is it? What’s wrong?"

Dalco had to try twice before he could speak. "Rayna – when did you last speak to her?"

"Last night. Why?"

"She’s not here. I just spoke to Buna, and she said that her bed has not been slept in."

The commander’s lips tightened to keep from saying something inadvisable. Instead, he swiftly left the room and went upstairs, hoping like hell that she had stayed in his room, even though he had told her not to. But when he opened the door, he could clearly see that his bed had not been slept in. Nonetheless, he went to the adjoining bathroom in the faint hope that she might be in there.

But she was not.

***

The Prince walked out onto the tower terrace and looked out over his mountains. The early morning sun was barely peeking over the range, and he lifted his face to feel its warmth wash over him. Such a sensation of invincibility it gave him to have the sun caress him before it touched anything else! He truly was lord of all he surveyed!

He rested his arms on the battlements and considered. Dalco had not yet retaliated for the blow the Prince had administered, and it made him sad. He’d had such high hopes for the police chief to run a raid on one of his known past residences in the hopes of finding him there! But, no. The night had passed quietly, and the new day had arrived. And still no sign of the Dalcos. It was depressing.

There had been a time when the entire clan of Dalcos would have stormed abroad with torches and swords. Ah, glorious times, those! How he had enjoyed watching from afar as they searched high and low for him, forever out of reach – forever discouraged when they did not find him! But this Dalco was not like his forebears. He had always laid low, attacking only in small ways, as if he feared the Prince’s retaliation.

And so he should.

The Prince grinned, his fierce eyes glinting in the sunlight. It was a pleasant image to think of Dalco cowed, perhaps spending the night under his bed, shaking in fear. But then the Prince frowned. Straker was with the Dalcos. His spies had given him that information last night. He had gone into their residence with the daughter and had not come out. And Straker would not cower in fear. He was the one unknown element in this game. The Prince could not predict how he would react. Well, they would soon see, wouldn’t they? He had plans to get the pale man’s attention – to force those dynamic blue eyes to focus on _him_ instead of some foolish girl. Ah, yes! Now that was a game worth playing! An adversary worth pitting his mind against! Ah! Breaking Straker would be his greatest triumph! But he had to be careful. He didn’t want him too broken to be of use. He wanted his companionship, after all – not his complete destruction.

As he turned from the view of the mountains to go inside, his eye caught a tiny flash in the sky to the southwest. He squinted, trying to make out what it was. Then his breath caught as he realized what was approaching. Five powerful jets in formation – and they were coming here!

He backed up a step before he thought it through. Then he almost laughed. Straker! Straker was the reason for this assault! Dalco must have put himself into the commander’s hands, and this was the result. They were going to attack the ruins. Such a useless gesture! Such impotent fury against a stronger opponent!

The Prince did laugh! Then he sobered. Straker was not known for useless gestures. He was more cunning than any human the Prince’s people had ever come across, and a foe to be respected. He walked back to the battlements and laid a hand on them, needing their solid reassurance that he was safe from the coming attack. That his hidden sanctuary was inviolate still.

Then he felt it – a sudden rumbling within the stone under his hand, a rumbling that proclaimed that his protection had been removed, the power cut – and the castle had returned to the normal time frame. And he knew a sick dread as he watched the jets fly closer, aware that Straker had somehow discovered his secret and had pierced his centuries old hiding place. The young Dalco had told him that he’d shared his knowledge with no one, and the Prince did not doubt a confession under torture. But Straker had divined the secret anyway. Curse the man! Did he have no idea what he was refusing? He could have had immortality for the asking!

The Prince dove for cover as the jets started firing.

***

Straker returned downstairs, trying not to overreact. She could be anywhere. Just because she wasn’t in the house didn’t automatically mean that she was in danger. He came into the study and found her father at his desk with his head in his hands.

Anton looked up when he heard him come in. "It’s too late, isn’t it? We can’t stop the attack now, can we?"

"She wouldn’t be there," Straker assured him. "She hated that place. She had no reason to go there."

Dalco’s lips trembled for a moment before he firmed them. "Perhaps she did not go of her own free will. He may have taken her."

"Why? Why would he do that?" Straker demanded, refusing to believe that she could be in danger. Knowing that he could not handle a scenario that included her in Dracula’s power.

"He saw you with her at the ruins. Perhaps he thinks to coerce you into returning there. Perhaps he hopes to entice you to accept his offer of immortality."

"No! I don’t believe it."

"Can we stop your jets from destroying the castle? Call them back?"

Strraker stared at him for a moment – an eternity – then shook his head, his face as set as stone. "We can’t. Even if there was time, we can’t. If we back off now, Dracula will get wind of it and disappear somewhere else. We can’t stop what’s begun or we’ll lose him."

"But – !"

"And Rayna wouldn’t want us to!" Straker said fiercely. "You know that, Dalco! She wants him dead as much as you do – as much as the rest of us. We’ve got to trust that she’s safe. That she’ll be safe."

After a long moment of silence, the cellphone in his pocket rang, and Straker reached for it. He listened for a moment, then closed his eyes. "Right. Thanks, Alec." He closed the phone and looked at the police chief, his expression bleak. "The power blackout did its work. The jets had no trouble seeing the entire castle and zeroing in on it. It’s destroyed completely. Even the ruins are leveled."

Dalco swallowed. "Oh. Well." He looked lost for a moment, and Straker came over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"It had to be done. You know that."

"Yes," he said heavily. Then his dark eyes sought Straker’s. "What shall I tell my wife?"

Straker turned away from him, running a shaking hand through his hair. "I don’t know," he said finally. "I don’t know."

The study was silent for a long time, neither man speaking or even looking at anything in particular. The elation they should have been feeling at overcoming such a fierce and ancient enemy was noticeably absent. Instead, they both seemed to be envisioning a rather barren future. But because it was so quiet, they clearly heard when the front door opened and closed and feminine voices spoke in the hall.

The two men stared at each other for an endless moment, then Straker dashed out of the study, hope burning painfully like adrenaline through his veins. Dalco was close behind him.

"Rayna!" Straker cried, running forward and grabbing her close, wildly kissing her all over her face.

She was bewildered by his exuberance, but had never been one to waste time asking questions. So in clear view of both her parents, she kissed him back, holding him tightly in return.

Anton smiled mistily as he put his arm around his wife.

"So!" Rayna said when he finally let her breathe. "I take it that your discussion with Papa went well?"

Straker laughed, so relieved he was giddy, and twirled her around in his arms. "Yes! Yes, it did! And I have a great deal to tell you. But first, I have to ask you something of major importance."

"What?"

" _Where were you?_ "

She gave him a puzzled look. "I went with Mama to make preparations for Alexi’s funeral. I didn’t think she should go alone, and Papa was still with you in the study. Why?"

"Rayna," her father said. "Your bed wasn’t slept in."

She frowned at him. "Papa! Were you checking up on me?"

"I was merely worried about you, _copilul meu._ You must admit that it’s odd for you not to sleep at all."

She blushed. "I did sleep, Papa. Just not in my bed." She looked at Straker from under her lashes, then said, "I slept in Ed’s room, if you must know. I was waiting for him to finish talking with you, but he never came back. So I went with Mama instead."

"But, Rayna," Straker said quietly. "My bed wasn’t slept in."

Her blush deepened a bit. "Well, no. I slept in the chair."

"Oh."

Rayna’s parents watched as a flush made its way up his neck and into his face. Anton met his wife’s eyes and winked, then assumed a fierce expression. "So, Straker!" he demanded. "What are your intentions concerning my daughter?"

"Papa!"

Unexpectedly Straker said, "Yes! That’s my other question, Rayna."

"What?" she asked warily, wondering if he intended to embarrass her further in front of her parents.

"Will you marry me?"

She stared at him for an entire minute, speechless. Then she threw her arms around his neck and said, "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Oh, are you sure?"

He kissed her. "Surer than anything."

***

In the end, the United Nations stepped in and kept the Romanian government from making too great a stink about the destruction of their castle ruins. Chief Dalco told the commander with a wink that it was no great loss to tourism. Straker hardly cared one way or the other. The debris had been thoroughly gone over and everything of interest shipped back to England. The skyjets’ powerful guns had torn into the cliff face itself, exposing hidden dungeons to the air. None of the residents of those hidden cells had survived the annihilation, but Straker took peace in knowing that at least their torment was over. Vlad Dracul III’s reign had finally come to an end.

He lounged on the couch in the studio jet and thought back on his first vacation in years. It had been an experience, that was for certain. He looked across the aisle, where an ornate bottle of Kauffman vodka was strapped into the seat. He had picked it up before leaving Bucarest without any trouble, although the clerk had given him a look. Well, it was his second bottle of the expensive vodka in a matter of days, after all. He had found the vodka surprisingly palatable – considering that he never drank. He hoped Alec enjoyed it. He smiled wryly and glanced down as Rayna sighed softly. His fiancee slept next to him on the couch, and he lightly ran a hand through her dark hair, being careful not to wake her. She’d been worn out from all the excitement of the past few days before they’d even boarded the jet to go to England.

Her brother’s funeral had been followed by a three day memorial service unlike anything the commander had ever attended. Members of the Dalco family came from all over Romania and the United States to celebrate the young man whose genius had brought about the death of their worst enemy. Alexi Dalco would go down in their family historical records as the man who had killed Dracula. Straker thought it was a fitting tribute to a brilliant young man.

Security was already screaming about his engagement to a civilian, but Straker didn’t care. In his mind, none of the Dalcos could be considered civilians. They might not have been military, but they were certainly an important part of the toughest war Earth had ever fought. In fact, once he was married, he intended to bring his beautiful actress bride into SHADO. After his staff at HQ got over the shock, he was sure they would find her as fearless and brave as he did. But first, he had to convince Dr. Jackson that she was a perfect addition to the cause.

He wondered if Jackson would even believe his report of all that had occurred in Romania?


End file.
